


All of life is a blackjack game (with God as the dealer)

by merle_p



Category: Brothers & Sisters
Genre: Gambling, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-06-01
Updated: 2008-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-06 18:00:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merle_p/pseuds/merle_p
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spring 2002. Tommy's stag night. Las Vegas. A bit of luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of life is a blackjack game (with God as the dealer)

**Author's Note:**

> Written June 2008.  
> Kevin and Tommy don't belong to me, which is sad. Patrick, Ted, John and the other guys do, though. The title is a quote from the novel "Lightning" by Dean Koontz.  
> This fic was inspired by [](http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/profile)[**romanticalgirl**](http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/)'s [getting lucky challenge](http://romanticalgirl.livejournal.com/589644.html). It's for [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[**inlovewithnight**](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/), who writes some of the most awesome stories in fandom ever, for her birthday.

Some people seem to think that if you are gay, you _have_ to love Las Vegas – if only because Siegfried &amp; Roy hang out with their kittens here once in a while.

They couldn't be more wrong. There are not many places in the world that Kevin despises more than Vegas. He's never been a gambler, never been one for risks – even as a boy, he'd rather spend his cash on ice cream than lose his coins to the slot machine. The all-you-can-eat buffets may look great, but leave him disappointed and unsatisfied – somehow, everything seems to taste the same, if it's the cupcakes or the scrambled eggs. And he didn't study literature, but he always thought that was a pretty good metaphor to describe the whole thing.

He's been there twice before, once as a teen and years later again, and he decided long ago that this was more than enough. For years now, he has managed to avoid all the lawyer congresses that take place in Vegas, even if it means he has to fake a cold.

It's all his brother's fault that he eventually ends up there once again.

***

A month before Tommy's wedding, he gets a call from someone who calls him buddy and claims to know Tommy from high school, which obviously – according to some straight guys' code of honor - makes him responsible for Tommy's last night "in freedom", or so he says, and apparently Tommy always wanted his stag night to take place in Vegas, so that's where they are going.

And Kevin is just _thrilled_ about the prospect of a weekend with a bunch of middle-aged jocks, expensive booze and bare tits. Not that Kevin has anything against tits – most of the people he loves own a pair, but – well, yeah.

Now Justin – Justin would love the idea. But Justin is in Afghanistan, and Kevin is well aware of the fact that Kabul in the middle of a war is most certainly a lot worse than two nights at the _Excalibur_, so he probably shouldn't complain.

Doesn't mean he has to like it.

***

Tommy doesn't have many friends (to be fair, none of them has, except maybe Justin). Which means that aside from Tommy and Kevin, there are eight men at the table, and five of them played football with Tommy in high school. Kevin is sure that Tommy hasn't talked to some of them in years.

There are also two cousins, twice removed, from their father's side of the family, and therefore full-blooded Republicans who make conservative Tommy look like a hippie.

And then there is Patrick, who was Tommy's best friend for ages and is actually a nice guy. When Kevin was fourteen, he had a huge crush on him for a while. Patrick used to come over after school to hang out at the pool with Tommy, and Kevin would sit on the side of the pool, very aware of his own pale, lanky body, and watch well-defined muscles shift under golden skin. Apparently, he moved to Vancouver to become an architect, which Kevin thinks doesn't make much sense – the _Vancouver Special_ is not exactly what he would call a highlight of modern architecture, although Kevin remembers fondly the night he once spent at the _Odyssey_ in Davie Village.

***

They haven't even finished dinner, and already they are totally wasted – all of them except him and Tommy, and that is saying something – and Kevin wonders for what feels like the hundredth time what they are actually doing here.

"What's next?" Ted asks, when a squire in tights brings another round of drinks, "Poker or strip club?" He burps. Kitty had sex with him once, after one of Tommy's games, and the next day, she told Kevin that it had been the biggest mistake of her life. Kevin starts to see why.

"Strip club, of course", John says, wiping pearls of sweat off his flushed forehead. "I never get to see tits anymore since I'm married. Except Patty's of course. And man, I love her, but that's just not the same. Right?" He turns to Kevin, looking for affirmation, and reaches over, squeezing his shoulder jovially.

"Right", Kevin says slowly, trying to wriggle free from John's sweaty embrace, with a sinking feeling in his gut. He already knows what's coming next.

At least, he doesn't have to wait long.

"Dude." Cousin Ralph puts his fork down and smirks. "You are talking to the wrong guy. Kevin bats for the home team."

John yelps and takes his hand back. His reddened face turns pale, which would be funny, only it's not. "You suck cock?"

The waiter winces. Patrick, Kevin notices, does too, while the others develop a sudden interest in their plates, obviously embarrassed.

Tommy rolls his eyes, throws Kevin an apologetic glance and then says casually: "Don't worry, Johnny-boy, your virtue is save. Kev has far better taste in men than your wife."

Kevin can't help but glance at Patrick, who's shooting him a sympathetic smile and then quickly looks away. The others laugh, relieved, and Kevin, while grateful for the distraction, thinks how even after all this years, he still envies Tommy his ability to deal with this kind of guys.

John looks adequately embarrassed, but makes sure to keep his distance for the rest of the meal. Kevin is just glad that he doesn't wave his sweaty limbs in his face anymore.

***

When they leave _The Steakhouse at Camelot_, the guys are still trying to convince the groom to check out the strip club.

Only Tommy is not in the mood for strippers. The thing is, he doesn't think it would be so bad if he only got to see his wife's breasts for the rest of his days. He's so smitten with Julia it's scary – not that Kevin thinks it's a bad choice. Julia is a nice girl who couldn't hurt a fly, and even Kevin can tell that she's beautiful.

Apparently, though, the others don't think that's enough of a reason to spend the night just with roulette. They basically drag him along, and fortunately, they are so busy wrestling with Tommy that they don't notice Kevin taking off as soon as they hit the Casino Level. There's no way he's up for that kind of torture tonight. Last time his co-workers forced him into that kind of bar, one of the girls actually tried to give him a lapdance, which was probably the most frightening thing he ever had to live through. For a second, Kevin feels bad for his brother, while he ducks behind a group of young women – but not bad enough to rejoin the group.

***

The first thing he does is treating himself to a grande white mocha at _Starbucks_ – with whipped cream, to make up for the sting that John's homophobic outburst left behind –, and then he switches off his cell phone and takes a stroll around the casino floor.

The mad blinking and beeping of the machines is not more appealing than it was the last time, and neither is watching people lose their money. He finally decides that he'll probably just head to bed early and work on his latest case. Or watch some porn. Probably both.

It's then when he realizes that he's still got his change in his hand, and when he reaches a corner that is relatively quiet, he stops just long enough to put a quarter into one of the machines and hit the button. He takes a gulp from his coffee and is just about to turn away, when the machine turns crazy and quarters start dropping into the coin tray. Huh. Kevin stares in wonder, then grins behind his mocha, and the guy at the slot machine next to him throws him an envious look when he starts picking up his winnings.

"Congratulations", a voice behind him says, and when he turns around, there is Patrick, hands in the pockets of his slacks. Obviously, he doesn't feel like breasts tonight, either.

"You got lucky", Patrick says, and Kevin looks down at the handful of coins in his palm.

"I don't think it's that much", he shrugs, and Patrick laughs. He's still gorgeous.

"That's not what I meant", he says, taking a hand out of his pocket and gesturing vaguely. "Just ... look at you. Stanford, successful lawyer, expensive car – you made it." He pauses and bites his lip. "And you look great."

Kevin feels himself blush. Suddenly Vancouver makes so much more sense, and he wonders how he could have missed all the signs.

Patrick watches him closely, apparently waiting, and for the first time today Kevin thinks that maybe the weekend won't be so bad after all.

He licks his lips. "You are not so bad yourself." He replies, half-smiling.

Patrick looks pleased, and relieved. "You know", he says slowly. "I'm not really into gambling."

Kevin nods. "So let's do something else. You want to go grab a beer?" He doesn't think he got the wrong idea, but he learned from his mistakes. He's not going to suggest something the other is not ready for, and end up with a broken nose.

Patrick takes a step towards him. "Not really." He answers, voice low and husky. "Want to get out of here?" Okay. Definitely ready. So much the better.

"Your room", Kevin says hoarsely. "I'm bunking with Tommy."

He leaves his winnings on the next table he passes on their way out. It's not as if he needs it.

***

They are kissing before they even close the door to Patrick's hotel room in Tower II.

Patrick all but fucks Kevin's mouth with his tongue, and then bends his head and plants wet kisses on his neck. "I want to fuck you so badly", he whispers between licks, "want to bend you over the couch and fuck you senseless."

So Patrick likes to talk dirty. Well, Kevin is not going to complain, although he hopes that Patrick doesn't expect him to join in, because he's not sure he could form entire sentences right now.

"Okay. Okay", he manages, moaning, his hands going for Patrick's belt. The man's cock is hard and hot under his hands, so Kevin thinks it's probably alright.

True to his word, Patrick fucks him. Hard. Makes him get on his hands and knees, shoves two spit-slicked fingers in his ass and spreads him wide, and barely takes his time to put the condom on before he pushes inside. Kevin knows he'll feel it tomorrow, but if the weirdly pleasant burn is going to distract him from the hangover breakfast conversation he can expect, he's all for it.

***

Later, when they are on their backs on top of the rumpled sheets, Patrick says slowly: "Do you remember the summer when I came to your house all the time?"

Kevin smiles wistfully: "You sure loved that pool."

Patrick turns his head on the pillow, looking at him: "The truth is, I mostly came because I wanted to see you in your trunks."

The surprise almost makes him choke on his own spit. "What?"

Patrick grins sheepishly. "You were so incredibly cute – with your blue eyes and your pink cheeks."

Kevin laughs incredulously. "And here I thought you were just being nice to me."

Patrick snorts. "Believe me, there was nothing nice about my thoughts."

Kevin thinks of his teenaged confusion, the angsty jerk-off-sessions, and can't help but wonder. He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at the other man. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Are you insane?" Patrick asks wildly, "you were barely fifteen. Your brother would have killed me."

Kevin sighs, because it's probably true. "Speaking of Tommy", he says.

Patrick nods. "We should get back." He hesitates, and Kevin decides to spare him the talk about why he still hasn't come out to his best friend. He feels generous tonight, and Patrick just gave him the most awesome orgasm – he owes him.

"You go first", he says. "I'll find you guys."

The sweet goodbye kiss takes him by surprise.

***

When he _does_ find them, almost an hour later, after a quick shower and some peanuts from the minbar, they are actually playing poker in the corner near the _Starbucks_ store. Looks like Tommy eventually got his way – which means that Kevin's Great Escape was kind of pointless.

Well, not entirely pointless, of course.

John obviously is loosing a lot of money, and Kevin doesn't really believe in poetic justice, but that doesn't mean he can't gloat.

Tommy sees him coming and gets up from his chair. "There you are. What have _you_ been up to?" he asks reproachfully.

Kevin glances at Patrick, who seems totally absorbed in his game, but even from here, Kevin can see the tips of his ears go pink. It's kind of cute.

"Oh", Kevin says lightly. "I've been ... getting lucky."

Tommy narrows his eyes suspiciously, then reaches out to touch Kevin's hair, still damp and curling in his neck. "In the shower?"

Kevin shrugs. "Well, you know ..."

Tommy pulls a grim face. "You didn't have sex in my bed, did you?" His brother obviously knows him far better than he thought. But then, everybody could probably discern the well-fucked look on his face.

Kevin laughs. He really feels good. "Don't worry. Your bed is untouched."

"Unlike you, I assume." Tommy growls.

Kevin just grins, and Tommy sighs. "Well, at least one of us is having fun tonight."

***


End file.
